


Poil à Gratter

by Khaelis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 09:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14305719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaelis/pseuds/Khaelis
Summary: He thinks it's a birthday surprise.Well, it is a surprise. Just not the one he expected.





	1. The Itch

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yes, "poil à gratter" means "itching powder" - much more fun in French than in English!  
> So, this will be split in two chapters, the E content will be in the second one - I didn't want to write it all at once because I'm working on a hundred other things at the same time.  
> The second chapter will be posted either today or tomorrow!
> 
> It's not much, but I hope you'll like it!

* * *

 

 

The Doctor hummed merrily as he kicked the door of the Tardis open, grocery bags precariously balanced against his chest. Two years. That day marked the end of the two years that had passed since the moment he had allowed his hearts to love Rose Tyler, and, hopefully, the beginning of the third - and of the many others he could only wish would follow.

 

They were freshly back from an adventure in the depth of a jungle that had left them both tired and achy, so he had decided they would spend this anniversary in his ship, just a lazy evening with a nice dinner and candles, the kind of conventional human celebration he had learnt to appreciate over the course of their relationship. Couldn’t hurt to spend some quality time with her without having to worry about bloodthirsty aliens and death lurking from every corner. 

 

He started to walk towards the kitchen, but he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on a pair of shoes strewn haphazardly on the grating. Her shoes. Odd. She usually was the one to discipline him for his lack of tidiness - and she usually didn’t even take off her shoes but in their bedroom. He carefully put his groceries down on the nearby jump seat and bent with a sigh to pick them up. That’s when he spotted the pair of socks. Very odd. And then he noticed the blue, faded jeans. Oh.

 

A grin replaced his frown on his features, and he let the shoes drop to the grating.  _ Oh _ . The shoes, the socks, the jeans. All leading to the corridor that opened on their bedroom. His tongue peeked out of his mouth to lick the corner of his lips as his hum grew slightly louder. Two years. Anniversary. And Rose just knew how much he loved that kind of surprises. Oh, he was in for a treat.

 

He followed the trail left by her clothes, leaving the shoes and the socks behind, and he made his way along the corridor. Even from here, he could hear the sound of water splashing and that was about enough for a lustful imagery to sprout in his head. Rose Tyler under the shower, now that was a sight he was rather fond of. He could already picture how she would turn around, invite him in with a filthy come-hither motion of her finger, tongue tucked between her teeth, full breasts flushed and glowing under the hot spray. It wouldn’t be a  _ surprise _ , per se, but she knew he would love it anyway.

 

He pushed the jeans aside with his foot and headed for the flimsy tee-shirt half-stuck in the door to their bedroom he was quick to open. His nostrils flared at the smell of her pomegranate body scrub, and he was just a bit disappointed that she hadn’t waited for him for that part - he  _ adored  _ massaging her body with that thing, and that would have been a nice bonus to add to an already amazing gift. The sound of the shower was much clearer now, and so were the fantasies filling his head. Fantasies he would be more than happy to indulge in. Right now. Right now would be good.

 

The Doctor quickly unlaced his own shoes, discarded his socks on the side, shed his jacket to hang it on the handle, shoved his trousers down his legs to throw them on the bed. There, better. He smirked at the deep red silk bra spread over the carpet and didn’t even try to tame the bulge growing in his boxers - she knew this was his favorite and he was elated she remembered. Elated and aroused. He had so many memories involving this bra, like that one time they… No, better not think about that, now. He had a surprise to enjoy, after all. His tie was abandoned on the back of the desk chair and he hurried to unbutton his light brown shirt he slipped off his shoulders and let flutter down on the carpet. He unconsciously palmed himself through his underwear, a quiet growl in the back of his throat, when he heard her moans behind that door and saw the knickers trapped under it.  _ Oh, cheeky _ .

 

He knew she was waiting for him, but he still tried to make a surprise entrance and quickly pulled the door open. Well, that definitely wasn’t surprise on her face. Nor cheekiness. Definitely not arousal, despite the moans that still fell from her mouth. And his seductive smirk turned into a mouth gaping in incomprehension.

  
  


“Bloody Hell, Doctor, did you put itching powder in the laundry machine yesterday?” she groaned loudly, ferociously rubbing at her arms with her body scrub.

“I… What?” he blinked in a rather stupid fashion, all his fantasies fading away as he took in her body covered in red patches and scratch marks.

“My clothes, Doctor, I… Fuck, itches, itches,” she cursed repeatedly, contorting around to scratch her nails in the middle of her back. “Your joke sucks, Doctor, so do you!”

“I didn’t… I didn’t…” he started, until he remembered. The jungle. The plants. Nettles. Alien nettles. Kind of nettles. That released spores causing the itching. Of course, his body was protected against these, but hers wasn’t. Well, that was a surprise.  “Step out of the shower and dry yourself, quick. Get on the bed, I’ll be right back.”

  
  


And when he got back, the naked Rose he saw sprawled over the bed, nails digging into her thigh and head deep into a pillow to muffle her moans, was definitely not the Rose of his fantasies.

  
  


“It’s alright, love, this will make it all better,” he reassured her as he straddled her waist and poured a lotion over her back. “It wasn’t your clothes, it was the plant you touched this morning. Galubra nettles.”

“You could have told me,” she complained loudly, struggling to keep her hands locked around the sheet and spare her skin more damage. 

“I’m sorry,” he could only shrug as he massaged the lotion at the base of her neck. “It usually doesn’t take that long for the effects to be felt, so I thought you’d be fine. I’m… Sorry.”

“S’alright, Doctor,” she sighed, rolling her shoulders at the sudden relief his hands brought. “‘M sorry I accused you. Just… Be quick, please. And... When it stops itching, maybe we can get to the reason why you’re almost naked.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” he finally allowed himself to smirk, relieved to hear the smile in her voice.

“You saw the bra and the knickers, Doctor, and this is our anniversary. I know what you had in mind. And you perfectly know what I mean.”

“I’d better hurry, then,” he whispered into her ear, squeezing more lotion in his hand to rub it into her skin. 

 

* * *

 


	2. The Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How can such a ridiculous title hide so much smut, I do not know.  
> But well. Here it is. Smut, fluff, and so much smut (and fluff too, because OTP).
> 
> I hope you will enjoy it

* * *

 

 

Rose moaned into her pillow again, a sound low in her throat that almost turned to a growl, but this time the itching wasn’t the culprit. Quite the contrary, actually. His long fingers felt like they were everywhere on her body at once, sliding down her back, caressing her thighs, running down her calves, until only a sweet tingling and comfortable warmth remained. Not only did he chase the fire ants tiptoeing all over her back, he also pressed his knuckles into the knots her muscles had tied into, stretched them with pulls of his palms, squeezed them between his fingertips. She had never told him how much she loved his massages but she supposed he knew. He knew everything about her.

  
  


“Where else does it itch?” he asked softly, brushing his thumbs up her spine to the base of her neck.

“Everywhere you haven’t touched yet,” she mumbled as more lotion dripped on her left shoulder.

“Is that a lie?” he smiled, lifting her arm to rub his lavender-scented oil over her skin.

“Would it make a difference if it were?”

  
  


The Doctor chuckled and switched to her other arm, not without giving the crook of her wrist a gentle kiss first. He was glad to see his miracle lotion was working, each brush of hands erasing more of the red rash and glowing scratch marks, until her smooth skin was back to its original shades of cream. He had always loved touching her body, to feel the softness under his fingertips, to map her curves and draw the lines of her silhouette, to feel her strength under the delicate layer of silk. It always amazed him that so much power could ooze from such a subtle woman, it always electrified him that this raw power could turn to quivering frailty under his hands. He would never quite see what it was in him that had seduced such a perfect beauty, but he would never deny his sheer luck either. He loved her, and he would let her love him for as long as she thought he deserved it.

  
  


“Flip over, love,” he requested, raising on his knees so she could roll on her back. “Where does it itch on this side?”

“You’ll have to find out yourself,” she teased, her whiskey eyes two sparkling ambers, her cheeks alight with the kind of blush only he would ever get to see.

“I’m supposed to make you feel better, love,” he grinned in return, sitting back across her hips. “I can’t do that if you don’t tell me where you need this.“

“I’m already better, the worse is over,” she smiled as she brought her hands to his thighs. “Now get on with it, we have an anniversary to celebrate.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“It  _ was _ a command.”

“Minx.”

“ _ Doctor _ .”

  
  


Some things would never change, he thought as a humorous chuckle fell from his lips. He squeezed more lotion in the crook of his palm and started wit her sternum, just from her collarbone to the swell of her luscious breasts he could see were already covered in goosebumps, nipples pulled taut and begging for attention he refused to give just yet. His fingers travelled down the side of her ribs, contouring each dip and hill, then retreated to the slim trough between her well-defined abs. He was quite sure she had never been more muscular than she was in that moment, but he guessed the running and their action-packed adventures had shaped them overtime. He almost regretted the once supple body, curvy and soft. Almost. To see her abdomen tense as he taunted her bellybutton, to feel the strain under her skin and the buzz of energy oozing from her pores did things to his insides. It wasn’t better, but it was just as beautiful.

 

The Doctor shifted down her legs and answered her moan with a sigh of his own when his nails scraped over the soft triangle of hair. He would not go there. Yet. His nostrils flared and her ostentatiously clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, the delicious smell of her already pungent, intoxicating, like vapours of alcohol - the only alcohol he could get drunk on. 

 

He sensed her need to rub her thighs together, but he wasn’t about to let that happen. He hooked a hand under her knee and spread her legs further apart, just enough to take another sharp inhale of her scent that grew heavier. His eyes stared into hers as he massaged her thigh, making sure to brush his thumb at the juncture of her leg, just to see her bite into that delectable lip he couldn’t wait to nibble. 

  
  


“Just so you know,” Rose suddenly murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed when he planted a kiss on the inside of her knee, “I don’t think it’s quite fair that I’m the only naked.”

“I’m  _ healing  _ you, love,” he mumbled against her leg, dragging his lips down to her ankle. “What kind of Doctor provides care  _ naked _ ?”

“Maybe I’m wrong, but…” she started with that spark of mischievousness in her irises. “Your kind?”

  
  


The Doctor gasped when the sole of her foot pressed against the prominent erection defined under his boxers, and his eyes squeezed shut when her toes gently curled around his head.

  
  


“Now,  _ that  _ isn’t fair,” he growled as he grabbed her ankle to still its persistent motions. “How’s the rash?”

“All better,” she hurried to breathe out as he scraped his teeth on the side of her foot. “Please, Doctor, that was more than enough foreplay.”

“Oh, no, this wasn’t foreplay at all,” he negated with a smirk, straddling her thighs and plopping down on his elbow, just so he could steal a kiss - and a second, and a third. “Shall we begin with the…  _ Celebration _ ?”

“I think it’s already started.”

  
  


The Doctor’s breath got stuck halfway in his throat, and he didn’t quite know how he suddenly found himself on his back, head thudding against the headboard, one saucy Rose Tyler straddling his waist and bending over to nip his lips. He growled, low and rumbling, and shuddered under her hands that drew the same patterns he had sketched over her back across his chest. The small of his back arched as high up as her weight would allow him to and his hands found an anchor around her hips. Her lips latched in the crook of his neck, sucking quickly on his first pulse point, her tongue painting a line across the column of his throat to give the other the same delicious treatment.

 

He suddenly regretted he hadn’t taken off his boxers while still given the chance, his erection trapped in the garment pressed hard against her hot flesh. It lacked the physical contact he loved, the heat of her skin, the wetness of her arousal he knew was there, just beyond that ridiculous barrier.

 

Rose caressed his chest, nails scratching the sparse smattering of hair, fingertips teasing his nipples, thumbs drawing the contours of his pectorals. She knew every little patch of skin that would make him swoon, knew just how hard to bite into his skin, knew just how deep to dig her fingertips in his muscles, and all those things she had learned she used to her advantage. Soon, his whole body was left shivering, and the sounds he made grew louder, a breadth more desperate, a tad more insistent.

  
  


“Just so you know,” he borrowed her words in a grunt, jerking his hips up to grind his erection against her center. “I don’t think it’s quite fair that you’re the only one naked.”

  
  


She smiled around his nipple and gave it a twirl of her tongue before she trailed it down his abdomen and pressed her lips over the thin patch of hair that thinned up to his navel. 

  
  


“You wanted foreplay, Doctor,” she reminded him just as she slipped her fingers under the waistband of his boxers. “I shall deliver, and then some. Kneel.”

“Rose, I’m…”

“I know,” Rose smiled, something akin to love flashing over her features. “ _ Two  _ years, my Doctor, we don’t have to stop at one, do we? Consider this as one of my gifts, and kneel.”

  
  


The Doctor knew what she had in mind, and while he had never really voiced this selfish pleasure was one of his favorites, he realized she was far too clever not to have noticed. His precious Rose. Always one to please. Always one to love. Always one to set his desire ablaze and nudge him close to the edge with just a look, just a word, just a kiss. They wouldn’t have to stop at one.

 

He drew in a long breath and slowly pushed himself back up, all while she tugged on his boxers to lower them down to his knees. Just a bit of twisting around and the garment was thrown over her shoulder, he knelt close enough to headboard to keep an anchor within reach and she lowered on all four before him. He blew a breath through his clenched teeth at the sight of her naked back, curving down as she looked up into his eyes with that cheeky tongue-bit grin he adored and clasped a hand firmly on his buttock. He was in love with that picture, and his throbbing cock bobbed in the air. But, not matter how much he loved that picture, he had to close his eyes, a raspy cry coming out of his lips parted in pleasure. Her fingertips brushed a path up his length, her thumb ran over his slit, and suddenly her hand was sliding down his shaft, quick, hard, just the way he liked it. His hips jerked to follow a squeeze up that never came. 

 

Breathing hard, he peered at her through heavy eyelids, swallowed hard when he saw just how close her full mouth was from his weeping cock.

  
  


“Look at me, my Doctor,” she breathed - and just that breath that teased his tip was enough to tighten the coil of his arousal. “Look at me, and touch me.  _ Fuck  _ me, like you want to.”

  
  


She squeezed his bum, an invitation. She licked her lips, a provocation. She blinked her doe eyes, a seduction. His hesitation was short-lived, if there was any hesitation to be had at all. One of his hand flew to the headboard, clinging around the sculpted wood, the other flew to her head, tangling in her blond strands still humid from the shower. And he looked at her.

 

A curse erupted from his mouth when the lips he knew delectable closed around his head and the hard tip of her tongue licked at his slit. The feel of it alone was maddening, but to see that it was her, to have that added visual stimulation made it so much more exciting. So much more intimate - and the single concept of being this intimate with Rose Tyler always made his cock swell and harden, maybe more than the actual feel of her mouth on him. But probably less than knowing she trusted him enough to allow him one or two fantasies, and that one measured kink he enjoyed every now and then. A bit of domination. A bit of power.

 

The Doctor let her tease for a moment, to enjoy the feel of her wet tongue working against him and fanning the coals of his desire that were already scorching. Just for a moment, until the picture and the sensations became too much to bear.

  
  


“Open,” he growled, a grumble that came low from his lungs, both his hands coming to clasp her face into a tight but careful lock.

  
  


Rose immediately complied, the eroticism of his demand shooting renewed sparks of arousal down her loins, and she was almost ashamed to feel a wetness trickle down the inside of her thighs. She loved him, and she loved him when he was like this. She moaned loudly at his first thrust, a quick, hard jerk of his hips accompanied by a pull on her face. Oh she knew he was still exercising some restraints. She also knew it wouldn’t be long before these restraints would snap. So, she braced herself tighter, nails digging into his buttocks, knees wide apart to provide with a precarious balance, and she worked her tongue on his underside.

 

Soon enough, he withdrew slowly, dragging out of her mouth, groaning, loud, and thrust forward again, moaning, guttural. And he looked at her. At her face, reddened cheeks smashed between his hands, plump lips thick and hard around his saliva-coated cock, nostrils flaring to take in some air she couldn’t breathe through her mouth. Deep whiskey eyes, staring back at him, spurring him on,  _ faster _ ,  _ harder _ .

 

The last thread of his control snapped faster than a rubber band pulled too tight, and before he knew it he was slamming his hips, filling her mouth with his throbbing member, foreskin dragging down on the back of her tongue, tip hitting the back of her throat. She moaned, and moaned, an encouragement or an expression of her pleasure, maybe both, he didn’t know, but the lascivious sounds echoed through his flesh down to his balls.

  
  


“Gods, Rose,” he grunted, his fingertips scraping hard behind her ears, thumbs digging into her temples. “Close… I want to… Not… Not in your mouth....”

  
  


Her eyes widened momentarily at the unspoken request he had never dared to ask before, and she pictured it. One second was all it took to make a decision, a second during which her arousal flared to new heights and she almost came under the wave of liquid fire that flooded her veins. She quickly blinked her assent and his eyes turned to two black pits of impenetrable lust. He thrust into her mouth once more, twice, and suddenly a hand was gripping the hair at the top of her head to pull it back, and the other was pumping his glistening cock,  _ faster _ ,  _ harder _ .

  
  


“Fuck, love, fuck, you’re so…” he struggled to say between harsh pants. “Oh, fuck!”

  
  


His hips rutted, his quick movements turned sloppy until they stopped altogether, a gurgle rising in his throat as his cock twitched, throbbed, his seed spurting on her neck, the tip of her chin, down to her breasts shining with a thin layer of sweat. The sight of it only drew his orgasm out, for a few seconds, too long or too short, the almost painful release and the most erotic image he’d ever seen clashing into a wild tornado of both conflicting and wonderful emotions. He saw stars, little flickers of light dotting his vision as his orgasm finally dwindled down, and in his haze he managed to let go of her hair.

  
  


“Gods, Rose, that was…” the Doctor wheezed, plopping wearily back down on his haunches. “Was that… Was that okay?”

  
  


Her only answer was the thumb she brought to her chin to gather his fluids and sucked into her mouth with a smirk.

  
  


“Hard to believe you’ll be up for a second round, now,” Rose murmured pensively, shifting closer to him. “Will you?”

“The time I’ll need to make you come as hard as I did will be more than enough,” he reassured her before he lightly bit the tip of her nose, then trailed his tongue over the seam of her lips. “Lie back down and let me clean you up a little, love.”

  
  


Rose did as she was told and relaxed against the pillow, discreetly working her jaw that had gotten a bit sore, while he divested a pillow of its case. He made a quick job of wiping the evidence of his pleasure and leaned over her on an elbow to kiss her fully, fondly, soothing the sides of her face he knew were just a little tender with soft caresses.

  
  


“Thank you,” he whispered against her lips.

“My pleasure,” she sighed as his large hand cupped her breast, a taut nipple trapped between his knuckles.

“Hm, was it really?”

“See for yourself, Doctor.”

  
  


He simply smiled and nipped her collarbone, than his fingers trailed down her stomach to reach the apex of her sex. Even without touching, he could feel the moist heat emanating from her, and he understood she wasn’t lying. A shudder ran through him at the realization, and he stole another kiss, just as he ran his index through her folds to find her little nub.

  
  


“What do you want, Rose?” he asked in a murmur. “Anything, ask me anything.”

“This might surprise you, Doctor,” she moaned, gently rocking her hips to redirect his finger, “but  _ you  _ are my turn on. Just this, is… Perfect.”

“But you do so much for me, love,” he insisted, peppering small kisses on her face.

“And you do so much more just being you, Doctor. Please, just… Yes, this. This is what I want. You. Just you.”

“Gods, the things you say to me, Rose Tyler,” he mumbled against her skin, those words enough for another erection to nudge her thigh. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Can I… Can I show you what I want?”

“Anything, everything, my love. Show me.”

“Sit for me?”

  
  


The Doctor was a bit surprised by the request, but he did, just after he pressed a soft kiss against her pulse point. He was even more surprised by the slightly darker blush on her cheeks and the way she sheepishly bit into her lip, but he let her. Whatever his Rose wanted, his Rose would get.

 

He watched as she knelt high up his thighs and stifled a growl when she delicately wrapped her fingers around his now full erection and ran his tips through her folds. It took some adjustments, but soon she was sitting on his lap, his cock sheathed into her velvet heat, her legs crossed in the small of his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body flushed against his chest, seemingly content just to sit. So he did what felt natural, and hugged her back. Body against body, his fingers rubbing small circles at the base of her neck, over the curve of her back. Forehead against forehead, eyes dark with lust but sparkling with something so much deeper he could only shiver.

  
  


“This is what I want,” Rose whispered, readjusting her hold on his body to mould it even closer to hers. “You, close to me. I love you, my Doctor.”

“Oh, Rose,” he almost sobbed, his hips thrusting up of their own volition at the power of her words. “My Rose, I love you too, so very much.”

“I know,” she smiled before she drew him into a passionate kiss. 

  
  


And they kissed. And kissed. Until the kisses weren’t enough any longer and she started to move her hips, a slow up, a slow down. She revelled in the feel of him, of the completion that made her insides twist and her heart beat fast in her chest, of his hands on her skin, and , yes, that was the only thing she needed. She loved his kisses, loves his gentle caresses. Loved the way his coarse smattering of hair teased her nipples, just enough, loved the way her clit ground down on his pelvis, just enough. Just enough for her pleasure to build up, until she was quivering in his arms and about to fall into a precipice of love and pleasure.

  
  


“Is this enough for you?” she asked him, a whimper following his nip on her lobe.

“You’re always enough for me,” he answered in kind, starting to guide her movements with his hands on her hips. “Always. Please, love. Come first. Come for me.”

  
  


Their noses bumped against each other when she let her forehead fall against his again, her hands clawing at his hair, her lips parted to release the pants flowing from her throat. She ground down hard on him one last time, but it was the raw devotion and unadulterated desire she saw in his eyes that pushed her over the edge. She came almost quietly, her muscles squeezing rhythmically around him, hard and fast, a stark contrast with the delicate and slow rolls of her hips. He was soon to follow, a soft moan muffled in the crook of her lobe as he pulsed his release into her warmth. 

 

The Doctor pretended the few tears rolling down his cheeks were pearls of sweat. Rose pretended to believe him. She brushed them off with her thumbs and cradled his face in her palms, sucking his pouty lip into her mouth when he wouldn’t answer her kiss, too shaken and bewildered to properly understand how deliriously happy he was.

  
  


“Happy anniversary, my Doctor,” Rose murmured, nestling his face against her sternum. 

 

* * *

 


End file.
